


The Goldilocks Zone

by Cerdic519



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM Scene, Bedtime, Businessman Castiel, Castiel's Handprint, Cliffhangers, Dean in Panties, Dildos, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Naked Castiel, Pie, Restraints, Roleplay, Safewords, Scissoring, Secretary Dean, Shower Sex, Teasing Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-05-01 10:39:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 9,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5202779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean knows who's been sleeping in his bed. Because he's still there. And very, very naked!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Considering the number of set-ups that Dean Winchester had walked right into during his life, he probably should have seen this for what it was. But he was tired, his muscles were loose after a long soak, the Men of Letters dressing-gown felt like heaven against his skin, and he just wanted to sleep. That was why he wasn't really thinking much when he opened his bedroom door, slipped through and shut it behind him. 

And then – well, he was probably thinking too much. Because on his bed was a certain scruffy-haired angel. Naked. 

Fortunately – or perhaps unfortunately, Dean wasn't sure with what remained of his brain – Cas lay with his back to the hunter. A broad, muscled back, whose lines drew Dean's eyes down like there was a weight attached to them, all the way to a perfect butt. He knew Cas went out running most days, but holy Chuck, the guy was in good condition.

When his brain eventually dragged itself out of the gutter, he realized why Cas was there. The Bunker's heating/cooling system, a temperamental beast at the best of times, had decided to go into overdrive that afternoon, and several of the rooms (including the one Cas used for sleep, even though he didn't need to do that any more) had been left temporarily uninhabitable. Sam's room was also out of commission, so the younger Winchester had moved to a room further down in the Bunker, and Dean remembered telling Cas to..... fuck, just go find another room. 

Damned literal-minded angel had done just that. 

The hunter's thoughts were interrupted when the sleeping figure let out a low growl, and to his horror, began to turn over. Dean could have sworn he felt light-headed, as the blood in his body headed for either his face or his lower brain, but he could not turn away, though he fumbled instinctively for the door-knob behind him. 

Fuck, Cas was even more muscled in the front, his chest almost hairless, and yup, there was Little Cas. Judging from the state of which the angel must have been having one hell of a dream, for he was fully erect, the cock stretching up past his stomach muscles, looking impressive even in the semi-darkness of the room. 

Dean blinked and tried to look elsewhere, but his eyes only switched instead to the guy's hips, narrow and almost pointed. Cas – well, his vessel – was only an inch or so shorter than Dean in height, but the guy always looked underfed in some way, odd considering the way he out away burgers on a regular basis. Dean fumbled with the reluctant door-knob whilst his gaze was drawn ever higher, up to Cas' broad shoulders and kissable neck.....

What?

The door-knob continued to resist his efforts, and Dean's gaze continued up past the angel's chin to those permanently chapped lips, that cute little button nose, those impossibly blue eyes, the hair that was....

Wait a goddam minute. Blue eyes?

Cas was staring straight at him. Castiel, Angel of Thursday And Shield of God, naked as the day his vessel was born, was looking him straight in the eye, Egyptian blue boring into forest green, the faintest hint of a smile on those chapped lips. And Dean belatedly realized two things. First, that the door was not going to open and let him make his escape. And second, that he was quite happy with that fact.

“Hello, Dean”, came the familiar growl.

The hunter swallowed nervously.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are rules, you know.....

“Hi, Cas.”

High. As in Dean's voice. Which sounded like he was wearing ultra-tight pants. Or had swallowed a ton of helium.

Cas lazily scooted over to the left side of the bed, still giving Dean a most excellent view of... well, everything, really! Fortunately a few of Dean's brain cells were still just about functioning, and he managed to get out those damned tricksy things called words.

“You said you'd find another place to sleep!” he burst out.

Still a clear octave higher than normal, his brain supplied unhelpfully. Cas yawned (it may or may not have been bordering on adorable; from the movement of the dressing-gown, Little Dean certainly approved), and flexed his arms before folding them behind his head. Gorgeous, surprisingly heavily muscled arms that Dean would not really mind having.....

“I did”, the angel rumbled.

“Huh?”

“Find another place to sleep”, Cas said, and that smile was definitely knowing, the little shit. He knew damned well what effect his body was having on the hunter, and he was making the most of it. “Both yours and Sam's bed are memory foam, Dean, and very comfortable. Or perhaps I could go and sleep with your brother?”

“No!” Dean almost yelled.

He realized a fraction of a second too late that, to an uncharitable observer, that exclamation and the way it came out might, in a certain light, possibly have been interpreted as containing the merest faint hint of jealousy. Just perhaps.

From the smug look on the angel's face, perhaps more than perhaps.

“There is plenty of room in your bed”, Cas said pointedly.

Dean made the mistake of catching his eye, and hell no! The angel was pulling the hurt puppy look, because the bad, selfish hunter wouldn't let him share his nice, comfortable bed. For possibly the only time in his life, Dean actually regretted buying a memory foam mattress.

“I suppose that since I am unwelcome here, I could try Sam”, Cas sighed with an even worse pout. “He is always so understanding....”

“Fine!” Dean bit out, almost angrily. “But you keep to your own side of the bed, kapiche?”

The smug look he got in return almost made him take that offer back.

“I kapiche”, Cas promised. “Come to bed, Dean.”

He had thought of the angel saying those words in several situations before, although what usually ensued was always.... no, boy, down! Sighing, he crossed to the bed, and pointedly turned off the bedside light before shucking his dressing-gown and slipping under the covers, making sure to turn his back to the angel. 

Who, just moments later and in a blatant ignorance of Rule One of the Official Sleeping With Dean Winchester Rulebook, had scooted across the wide bed and was spooning the now very awake hunter.

“Er, Cas?” Dean began.

“You are aware that, as an angel, I could make you do absolutely anything I wanted.”

There was something slightly uncontrolled about the usual rumble, something different from Standard Geek Cas.

“Yeah, but you wouldn't, would you?” Dean asked.

Silence.

“Would you?” Dean ventured, his confidence deflating rapidly. And his voice was back up to choirboy level again.

More silence.

“Would you want me to, Dean?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rules and regulations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure what happened here.....

That was one hell of a question, which Dean considered as he turned to face his angel across the predictably reduced personal space.

Yeah, all right, so Dean did like to be dominated in bed, and several women in the past had played along with him in that. But there had never been any real power behind it, and the hunter had been too wary to ever allow himself to be truly tied up to the point he would have been unable to escape if the need had arisen.

And then there was the naked angel in front of him. Very, very naked, and more beautiful than anything he had seen in his near four decades of life. Naked men weren't sexy; Dean knew that for a fact. He'd seen pictures of various Hollywood A-listers on magazines at gas stations and in shops, many of them artistically bare-chested, and wondered what women saw in them (the money, he usually thought snarkily). He bet that without all the make-up hours that went into those shots, they looked as shit in the morning as anyone else. Nope, Dean Winchester was one hundred per cent heterosexual, and loved only women.

Plus, judging from the fact that Little Dean, showing piss poor timing, had now pushed his way out of his boxers and was painfully hard, Cas. 

The angel smiled darkly, his eyes gleaming in the dim afterglow that seemed to persist all through the Bunker's rooms. Dean wondered briefly what had happened to the wide-eyed innocent who had run with him from that brothel all those years ago, but then told himself that yeah, Cas had been with him a lot since. He must have picked up a few things.

Unfortunately any happy feelings Dean experienced from that thought ended abruptly when his upper brain, showing even worse timing than his cock, chimed in with a reminder that Cas had rebuilt Dean, and would have known all along about all his desires, secret or otherwise.

“Why now?” the hunter blurted out. “I mean, c'mon, Cas! You must've known how I felt about you all these years!”

And holy crap, Cas eased onto his back and started slowly rubbing his cock, with one eye clearly on the hunter to see his reaction (a lot of sweating). Dean was dimly aware that his head was following Cas' hand, moving up and down as if on a string, but he was powerless to stop. That was damned impressive!

(Look, he was not jealous! He was not, right?).

“I did not think that you were really ready for, I believe they call it, 'the destiel moment'”, the angel said, somehow managing to insert the air quotes even with one hand otherwise engaged, “but after all we have been through lately, I now think you may be. What do you think, Dean?”

“What?”

“Would you like me to dominate you in bed? I promise that I would observe all the correct protocols, including safewords and aftercare.”

Dean's head was spinning. Cas smiled, leaned in and kissed him lightly on the nose. It was cu.... it was all right, Dean supposed.

“This is all a bit much for you”, the angel said, sounding regretful. “We shall discuss things tomorrow morning, and set out what we are each prepared to accept. Tonight, we shall just cuddle.”

Dean tensed. Manly hunters did not cuddle. He was wondering how to put this to the angel whilst avoiding another puppy-dog face when Cas spoke again.

“My bad”, the angel said, somehow managing to turn Dean round before slotting in behind him. “We shall conserve body heat whilst I hold you in a most manly-like manner.”

The hunter was about to object to even that, but he suddenly found himself embraced in an octopus-like hug, one of Cas' bare legs slipping between his own, and.... yup, Cas was still hard. Dean instinctively rutted back against him before he could stop himself.

“Eager!” Cas chuckled. “There's always tomorrow, Dean.”

Yeah, tomorrow. Talking about sex. After having spent the night like this. Hell, he might as well hand in his man card right now.

It was nice, though, this being held in a manly-like manner. Very nice indeed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has some reading to do.

Sam knew.

Or at least, Dean was pretty sure that his brother knew something was up (no, apart from that!). Because out of nowhere the morning after all that cu.... being held in a manly-like manner had taken pace – Dean had never slept so well in his life, by the by – his brother had announced that he wanted to go to California to pick up some artifact from a fellow hunter, and would be taking four days for the trip. Of course Cas had come in whilst Dean had been cooking breakfast and gotten himself way too far into the blond hunter's personal space, but that was nothing new.

What was new, and possibly a bit of a give-away, was that Dean had not minded that at all, and only Sam's raised eyebrow at his lack of usual response had caused him to jerk out the usual 'personal space, Cas!' warning, to which the angel had huffed – adorably – and slouched off to the table to await his morning bacon.

Okay, so Dean had given him a few more slices than usual. It was short-dated, right?

+~+~+

The day seemed to drag after his brother's departure, and Dean spent much of the morning working on Baby, whilst Cas read some ancient tome or other in the library. They had a light dinner, after which Dean wanted to return to his car.

Cas, however, wanted to talk.

“I have been undertaking research into what you need, Dean”, he said in his deep rumble that, yeah, Dean could now admit was damned sexy. “I believe that, with some rules in place, I would be able to provide you with a high level of satisfaction.”

“Make me sound like a customer in a store”, Dean grumbled. “And I'm not the one who ran from a brothel, remember?”

The angel smiled.

“You are not differentiating between theoretical and applied knowledge”, he said. “I have an understanding of more types of sex between different species than there have been seconds in your lifetime so far. However, angels were never meant to experience any of them personally. Doing so at that brothel was most decidedly unpleasant, though of course I was sorry for poor Chastity.”

Dean's brain chose that moment to recall his own feelings from that time. He had actually been glad that they had had to run from the place, because seeing that girl draping herself all over Cas had made him feel..... uneasy. Yeah, uneasy was the word.

“Safewords first”, Cas said, as if they were discussing the weather or something quite normal. “I would recommend the use of traffic lights.”

“Huh?”

“Either when I ask you or if you just need to let me know”, Cas explained. “Green means you are happy to continue with what we are doing. Yellow means that you are uneasy, and wish me to slow down. Red, and I will stop immediately. This is all about you feeling good, Dean, and this enables you to retain or take complete control.”

Dean could see his point. He nodded.

“Alright”, he said. “And what's with this aftercare thing?”

“That is something which you would probably define as 'girly shit'”, Cas said, providing the inevitable air-quotes. Taking your body to new heights of pleasure means that, once we are finished, you will experience a drop in your emotions back to normal levels. This is called subdrop. By careful treatment of your body after we are done, I can minimize or negate this.”

Dean didn't get it really, but he nodded.

“Anything else?” he asked, almost nervously.

Cas grinned, and placed a small notebook in front of the hunter.

“Each page has a different type of sexual experience for you to try”, he said. “But it is important that you only do what makes you happy, I am going to leave you now, and I want you to tear out each page in turn and, as with the traffic-light system put them in one of three piles; definitely, maybe later and no way. You might want to shred the 'no way' pile though – we do not want Sam finding it, do we?”

The angel chuckled, and left the room. Dean stared after him, then flipped open the notebook. 

Oh fuck!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is some shredding.....

It took an hour for Dean to go through the whole notebook, partly because he had to look up some of the stuff on the web - seriously, was that even physically possible? - and partly because he had to stop halfway through for a stiff drink. So much for the innocent angel; that bolt was well and truly shot! Finally he had his three (surprisingly, roughly equal) piles of notes, and he clipped two of them together and pocketed them before shredding the third. And he then went and emptied the shredder into one of the Bunker's furnaces, just in case.

He arrived back to find Cas was waiting for him. Silently, Dean handed him the first pile. 

“Not sure about any of these”, he muttered, avoiding the angel's laser stare. “Perhaps later, you know.”

Of course the feather-ass had to go and read through them all, and there was more than one raised eyebrow. Finally he finished, and looked up at Dean with his trademark small smile.

“I was surprised by some of the ones there”, he admitted. “But remember, if and when we do attempt any of them, you can always stop it at any time.”

Admittedly, that did make Dean feel just a bit better. He handed Cas the second pile.

“I'd like to try all of those”, he said, blushing slightly. “I mean, not all at once, and you know, carefully, and....”

He realized that the angel's hand was on his shoulder, over the old hand-print that, he knew, lay below his skin. And that he was babbling like an idiot.

“I would be honored to be allowed to do any of these with you”, Cas said with a smile. “And we know Sam will be away for four days, so perhaps you could choose one that may be considered noisy?”

Dean nodded and took the sheaf back, leafing through quickly to extract one sheet, which he handed back to the angel. Cas smiled.

“Well, I shall have to fly off and get what we need for that”, he said. “But yes, Dean. Tonight we shall do just that.”

The hunter may have let out a quiet whimper at that, but his angel was tactful enough not to hear it. For which he was eternally grateful.

+~+~+

Perhaps they should have started – what did Cas call it – yeah, the 'scene', straight after Dean had picked it. Because having the rest of the day to think what lay ahead of him that evening left the hunter feeling increasingly antsy, and at dinner that evening his knee was juddering under the table. It only stopped when he felt Cas' own leg slide gently up against it.

“Remember the traffic-lights”, Cas said with a smile. “I will ask you for a color from time to time, but you can say 'yellow' or 'red' whenever you like. You are always in control here, Dean.”

Honestly the hunter knew that, but his natural instinct to avoid danger was hard to fight down. In a few hours he would be.... well, totally at Cas' mercy. 

He stared across at the angel, and suddenly thought to himself, what was his problem? Cas loved him, that was evident by all he was doing here. The angel would never... well, he would never.

“No”, Cas muttered. “Unless you ask me to.”

The leg started juddering again, faster this time.

+~+~+

Dean normally watched TV for a couple of hours after dinner every evening, but tonight he felt that if he didn't go through with all this immediately, he's bottle out. He said as much to Cas, who offered to start the scene immediately. The hunter nodded, and led the way to his bedroom; Cas had said that this would be the best place for him, as the familiarity would put him at ease. And indeed, it was good to see his shelf, his bed, his wardrobe....

His solid wooden pole with the leather straps hanging from it.....


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's a bit tied-up.....

Dean Winchester had experienced many emotions in his life, including embarrassment (the conversation he had endured with Cas before dinner, when the man had set out exactly what was and was not allowed this evening had been excruciating!), but he had never felt like this before. He'd assumed that it would just be him being tied up and having a blow-job. That assumption had been a tad incorrect.

Cas had tied his hands and ankles to the pole with the restraints, and must have used his grace in the bonds, because Dean was unable to do anything more than writhe his body. Which he did when Cas started – not at his cock, incredibly, but kissing around his face. The hunter's eyes widened in surprise. That was..... actually damned nice.

The angel nibbled softly at his left ear, then worked his way down Dean's stubbled jaw, missing him lightly on the lips. The hunter supposed it would have been good for him to kiss back, but his brain had apparently closed up shop for the evening. Well, his upper brain; his lower one was doing its level best to make up for it, leaking in anticipation of what was to come. Him.

And now Cas was definitely giving him a hickey, which would take some explaining to Sam. 

“I like seeing my mark on you”, Cas growled, somehow managing to speak with a mouthful of Dean's skin. “I can still see my hand-print below your skin, but this – this shows everyone else that you are mine, Dean Winchester!”

Dean huffed. He did not belong to anyone! He was a manly man, and he was his own oh fuck that felt so damned good! He arched his neck to give the angel more room, and Cas obliged, deepening the hickey and then licking over it. There was a definite whine which, in all probability, did not come from the angel.

Cas grinned, and began to work his way downwards, taking first one and then the other nipple into his mouth and teasing them both. Damned tease must have been using his grace to prevent Dean from coming, because the hunter could feel the pressure in his balls, as his body fought for release. But the tease of an angel simply finished with the nipple he was on – and then moved across to the nearby shoulder, burying his face in Dean's exposed armpit and kissing him there. The hunter moaned.

“Caaaas!”

The angel smirked, and after working across to the other shoulder, kissing the armpit there too, before working down Dean's side to where the hunter's lower brain was waiting in anticipation. It would have to wait longer, it seemed, because the bastard angel by-passed it and instead worked his way down Dean's left leg, right down to his ankle before crossing to the right one and working his way up again.

“So help me Cas, just do it!” Dean almost snarled.

Cas looked up at him, and smirked again. He worked his way painfully slowly up the hunter's right leg, working into Dean's thighs where, infuriatingly, he still avoided the center of the action. Instead he left a smaller hickey there, whilst Dean realized that he was actually now crying in frustration. This was terrible!

So why did he want it to continue, then? 

In his moment of distraction, he had taken his attention off of the angel. Only for a moment, which was why he did not see what Cas was doing until......


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean ends up feeling remote from things.

The noise that came out of Dean Winchester's mouth was of the sort that would have probably scared off at least half of the supernatural critters he had ever come across in his life. Cas had sneakily placed one finger at his entrance, and whilst the hunter's upper brain was struggling to get back online, the angel had breached him. And that was not just his finger; the damned angel was using his grace to open Dean up! It was downright undignified!

His upper brain kicked back in at that inopportune moment, and reminded him pithily that he was naked, strapped to a post, and totally at the mercy of a being that could smite him faster than he could think. His dignity, along with his manliness, had departed a long time ago!

With some thinking ability restored, however temporarily, Dean naturally worried about whether Cas had soundproofed the room or not. Then again, the older Winchester was always trying to freak his little brother out. If coming into the room and seeing him like this didn't scar Sammy for life, nothing would!

“You are thinking too much”, Cas muttered, and holy Chuck, he had got a second finger inside Dean, scissoring the hunter open with a rapid motion that, ridiculously, made Dean think of the Bunker's old washing machines on spin cycle. The angel chuckled.

“We can try it on one of those later”, he promised. “But tonight, I want to make you come as often as your body can stand it. Maybe slightly more than.”

Dean moaned. That was so hot!

The pole was positioned opposite the end of Dean's bed, and he wondered how Cas was gonna do this when he had his back to the pole. Especially as the ever-attentive angel now had three fingers – no, make that four – inside of him. The hunter's cock was so hard that it hurt, and the angel must have been using his mojo to stop Dean from coming, because he wanted to so badly. 

Then his eyes widened. He felt something rather thicker than Castiel's elegant fingers – hell, no!

“A dildo!” he squeaked. "Cas!"

“Remember, you can stop at any time”, Cas reminded him. “Though we have barely started as yet.”

Dean let out another keening wail as the toy was pushed slowly inside of him. God, he had never felt so full in his entire life! He considered safe-wording out, and opened his eyes to look at Cas, who had moved round to the side of the bed. 

And was now getting undressed. Slowly. Seductively. Gorgeously.

(If, all those years ago in the barn, someone had told Dean that the trench-coated scruff would one day do a sexy striptease for him, the hunter would have checked the speaker for demon possession and then phoned the funny farm to come and get them).

Incongruously, Cas stripped naked but left his socks on, black and yellow ones with bees on. Then he lay back on Dean's bed and picked up the remote, pointing it at the TV behind Dean. Who realized less than a second later that that was not the remote for the TV......


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There may or may not be dolphins.

Dean came to slowly, his senses seemingly reluctant to return to his broken body. He was lying face down on his bed, and he knew in seconds that despite the fact he was unbound, his body was totally incapable of movement. He ached in places he hadn't known it was possible to ache in, and he felt absolutely....

Glorious!

Huh?

Everything in his normally logical brain told him that, after what the angel had put him through (and put into him, dammit!), he should be a wreck. But although he felt more tired than he had ever been in his entire life, he also felt the sort of high he usually only ever got after a successful hunt. Those dolphin-thingies Sam had once told him about were having a party in the hunter's body, and it felt great.

“Endorphins”, came a quiet voice from behind him.

Dean realized that Cas was sat on the bed between his legs, and that the odd smell that he only now picked up on came from the lotion that the angel was rubbing into his back. In fact, the length of his back, all the way down to.....

The angel chuckled as Dean whined. His cock getting hard again was actually bloody painful!

“Aftercare”, the angel muttered. “One of the most important duties of any dom, to take care of their sub and ease them gently down from the magnificent highs to which their activities have taken them. I am so proud of you, Dean, for everything you did. You were wonderful.”

The hunter blushed at the praise. Cas actually giggled.

“So the blush does go all the way down!”

“Shaddup!” Dean sniped. “God, I'm shattered!”

“You will be”, Cas said, still rubbing the odd-smelling stuff into Dean's back. “Another few minutes, and then I will summon a breakfast for you.”

“This time of night?” Dean asked, surprised.

The angel kissed him lightly between his shoulder blades. Dean sighed contentedly. At least until his next sentence. 

“It's eight in the morning, Dean.”

“What?” 

Nope, talking loudly was a bad idea. Dean's head hurt, at least until Cas soothed it with his hand.

“You slept for ten hours after you passed out”, the angel explained. His clever hands were now at the base of Dean's back, and starting to work towards Dean's ass, making the hunter sigh and try to bury himself even deeper into the memory foam. He'd never slept for that long before.

“Did you use your mojo on me?” he asked dubiously.

“I had it ready, but I didn't need to”, the angel said. “A longer than usual sleep is the norm after one's first scene. You will soon revert to your usual eight hours.”

“Four”, Dean corrected.

“Eight”, Cas said firmly. “As long as you and I are sleeping in the same bed, Dean Winchester, your body is going to get all the sleep it deserves.”

“Bossy angel”, Dean muttered.

Cas ran his hands gently over Dean's backside. And that was the moment that Dean realized that the dildo from the night before was still inside of him, albeit mercifully switched off. For now, at least.

“I prefer 'considerate'”, Cas said, and Dean could hear the smirk in his voice. “You will need all your energy for what I have planned.”

Then, at the very edge of his vision, Dean saw Cas' hand reaching over to the bedside table. Reaching for that fucking remote......


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a Talk.

“We need to talk.”

Four words that constituted one of the most terrifying phrases in Dean Winchester's existence. And said by the angel across the table who, he knew, could make sure he stayed there and talked. No wonder Cas had allowed him pie for breakfast.

“What about?” Dean said defensively.

Cas placed two things on the table, and Dean blanched. One was a leather wristband, which looked innocuous enough, but the other was a thick leather collar.

“Not a dog, Cas”, he muttered. 

“Oh, I've seen plenty of proof that you're all man!” Cas shot back. Dean blushed furiously. “But you misunderstand. The collar is only for scenes.”

“What?” Dean was confused.

Cas handed him the collar. Dean could see now that it was lined inside, with something that felt almost silken.

“When we are doing a scene, you wear this”, Cas explained. “Wearing it means that you submit yourself to me completely. Once you remove it, we are just Dean and Cas, two 'regular joes' as you say.”

That kinda made sense, Dean thought. It would make him feel easier having a dividing line between his regular life and..... that.

“What if I want to..... 'scene' some time?” he asked.

“Then you summon or come to me with the collar in your pocket, and ask”, Cas said. “You do not wear it unless I say to. If you use a red call in the middle of a scene, I shall ask if you wish to remove it, or you can ask for it off any time. You have complete control, Dean.”

That sounded weird coming from an angel who could basically make Dean do anything he wanted. But Dean trusted Cas with his life. And now, it seemed, his body.

“And the bracelet?” he asked.

“It contains my name in Hebrew”, Cas explained. “I know how hard you find it to do commitment Dean, bearing in mind how many people have come and gone in your life, but this is a reminder that I will always find a way back to you.”

“Like an engagement ring”, Dean said, before belatedly wishing that his brain actually consulted him before blurting out crap like that. There was a definite flicker in the angel's stoic gaze, and his lips quirked upwards. “Shouldn't you have one too?”

Cas rolled up his sleeve to reveal his watch, which he took off. Dean could see strange markings on the strap.

“I have worn this ever since I met you, Dean Winchester”, the angel said softly. “Because I knew that I would always be yours.”

Dean was not gonna cry. He was not. 

“When can we do it again?” he asked, slipping on the bracelet, and feeling a surge of pleasure at the happy look on the angel's face as he did so.

“Not until tonight”, Cas said, much to his disappointment. “It is recommended that, after one's first scene, the body is given adequate time to recover.”

“Oh”, Dean said dully.

“And believe me”, Cas said, and his voice dropped to Ultra-Sex Growl levels, “you will need all your strength for tonight, Dean!”

Oh!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a strip of Velcro.

Dean knew that, physically, it was possible to die during sex. Though he didn't want Dean Winchester to be listed among the victims.

Cas, seemingly, did.

The angel had taken a long rope, which had momentarily alarmed Dean, before laying it out in a circle on the floor and commanding Dean to stand inside it. Then he had sat on the bed – still in that damned trench-coat! - and lazily told Dean to strip. And Dean had, even if he felt that standing there stark naked in front of his angel had to rank as one of the moist humiliating things he had ever done.

Boy, had he been wrong and then some. Cas had pulled his hand out of his pocket, and in that hand was.....

Dean paled.

“Cas!” he whined.

“The angel grinned lazily as he pulled the panties out and displayed them for the hunter. They were black lace with a delicate pink bow at the front, and almost transparent. 

“You promised not to read my mind!” Dean complained.

“But I didn't promise not to go into your sock drawer”, the angel quipped. “And once I discovered your... unusual choice of undergarments, I decided to get you some of your own. These are your size, Dean, and they even have a useful Velcro strip at the back. Isn't the Internet wonderful?”

“God Bless America!” Dean muttered. 

Cas smirked and set the panties on the floor, and Dean reluctantly stepped into them. The angel then hoisted them slowly up his legs, his happy sighs not really helping Dean's growing erection, which was such that Cas had to ease the panties over it.

“Eager”, he praised, stepping back over to the bed. “Now for the next part.”

“What next part?” Dean asked. 

Cas caught him totally off-guard when he suddenly took out his phone and snapped him. Dean blushed furiously.

“Cas!”

“I wanted a new photo for my phone”, he grinned. “Now every time you see me use it, you'll know exactly what I'm looking at. Now for the hard part.”

“Hard enough already, Cas!”

The angel grinned, came back over to him and knelt on the floor in front of him. For some reason Dean was reminded of one of those religious photos he had seen once of a saint or angel praying. An image that was not helped by Cas promptly mojo'ing away all his clothes.

“You're so beautiful, Dean”, Cas praised. “I know that you hate that word, that you want to be a manly man, but my Father made you as you are, and you are truly stunning.”

Apparently Dean did blush right down to his feet. His breathing was getting faster, and all Cas was doing was praising him.”

“I know how difficult it is for you to accept that”, the angel said with a slow smile. “You have done so many difficult and even impossible things for this world, Dean Winchester, but standing like this in front of me whilst I tell you how beautiful you are is, I know, one of the hardest things for a man like you.” He hesitated before adding, “though I can see that is not the only hard thing!”

The angel ran his hand along Dean's barely-contained length, and the hunter moaned. 

“Mine”, Cas said quietly. “All mine. You know that I have the power to end you with a thought Dean. To grind you into the dust. To beat you wo within an inch of your life, and keep you alive only to suffer some more. You also know I would never do any of those things, because I love you, yet you still surrender yourself to me. It is time for your reward, Dean. What would you like?”

 

“I want.... I want.....”

“Yes, Dean?”

Dean took a big breath.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean says a bad word.

“Pie!”

Cas blinked in surprise. Dean looked up at him, and the bastard actually batted his eyelashes. The angel only narrowly suppressed a laugh.

“As you wish”, he said softly.

And he vanished.

+~+~+

Dean stared in shock. He was standing in a rope circle wearing only a pair of silk panties, and with an erection that was almost painful. And now the cause of all this, that damned sneaky Angel of the Lord Castiel, had fluttered off.

If Sammy came in any time now, he'd never speak to Dean again!

Alright, it had been wrong of Dean to say 'pie'. Yeah, he always wanted pie. But although he wanted more than anything else for Cas to fuck him until he was seeing stars, actually admitting that – well, he was Dean Winchester. He was a manly man.

A manly man naked except for some silk panties, his brain unhelpfully reminded him. He ignored it. This could not be any worse.

Then he tried to take a step forward, and found out that the universe, as ever, had planned for that. Cas must have used his mojo on the rope, because Dean couldn't cross it. He was trapped. Alright, now things couldn't get any worse.

There was a faint noise behind him and he spun round to discover, yup, wrong again. Cas had re-materialized on the bed behind him. 

Stark naked!

Uh, not quite. Dean's eyes were torn between the highly impressive erection – could angels use their mojo to do that instantly? - and what was on the angel's chest. A steaming apple-pie.

Dean felt like crying.

“Mmm, you were right”, Cas rumbled. “Pie is good.”

He moved the pie to the bedside table, then using a slicer that appeared from nowhere cut himself a generous slice into a dish (also new), and then covered the slice from a recently-arrived jug of hot custard. Dean was positively slavering, but was firmly trapped in the circle. He moaned.

And the bastard angel didn't add a spoon to the mix. Oh no. Instead he stuck his finger into the dessert and then swallowed it, sucking it clean slowly and seductively with a satisfied pop as he removed it.

“I can see why you regard this as better than cake, Dean”, he said with a slow smile. “I think I could just lie here and eat the whole thing, right in front of you.”

“Cas!” Dean begged. “Please! Pie for me?”

The angel seemed to consider that for a moment.

“No”, he said at last.

Dean did not cry. His eyes may have watered a bit, though.

“I'll do anything!” he begged.

Cas quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Anything?” he asked.

“Anything”, Dean promised. “You could make me do it anyway, you know that.”

“And you know I would never make you do anything you didn't want to”, Cas responded. “Very well. I suppose you could have a small slice.”

It was even harder to suppress a smile when Dean panted like a happy puppy. The hunter almost fell over when Cas released his hold on the ring, and he scrambled to the foot of the bed looking hopeful.

“Anything?” Cas queried.

“Anything for pie”, Dean promised. 

“Well, there is something I would very much like you to do for me”, Cas grinned. “Before you get your pie, that is.”

“Of course”, Dean agreed.

“What I want.....”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is a messy angel.

“No friggin' way!”

Bad mistake. Now the angel was giving him the hurt puppy look, making him feel a complete heel. But heck, Dean Winchester had standards!

His upper brain, whose timing sucked, chose that moment to point out he was naked except for a pair of panties, crouched down at the end of the angel's bed and pretty much begging to be fed. He gave it the mental finger.

The bastard angel inserted his finger into the pie again, scooping up a fair amount of pastry and filling, then slowly moved it over to his mouth. But halfway there, most of it fell onto his chest.

“Oops”, Cas said with a knowing smirk. “Care to clean me up?”

Apparently Dean's dignity had just phoned to say that it and his manliness were extending their Mexican vacation to forever. The hunter slid gracelessly up the bed, trying (and failing) to ignore his increased breathing as he edged past that impressive erection. Then, moving carefully, he licked some of the pie off the angel's almost hairless chest.

Cas moaned. Now that was just unfair! Making Dean hard(er) at a time like this. The hunter fought off a wish to be able to record that noise for later.

“I can make it your mobile ring”, Cas chuckled darkly. “Sam would most definitely be surprised when I call you in the middle of dinner!”

Dean winced.

“No mentioning the moose during sexy times, Cas”, he muttered, before licking off some more pie. There was the definite scent of Cas in there, a weird but good one of sharp winter mornings and spices. 

Dean finished removing the fallen pie, and eased himself up to lie fully on top of the angel (hey, it wasn't as if he couldn't bear his weight). The hunter was growing even harder, despite the thin layer of silk between their cocks, and he found himself instinctively rutting against the shorter man. It was slow, sensual, and totally unlike any sex he had ever had in his entire life, made even more intense by the happy moans that filled the room. Not all of which, Dean knew, came from below.

He dimly remembered the pie on the bedside table, within arm's reach, but for possibly the first time in his life he didn't want his favorite dessert. He wanted – needed - this, this perfect existence as he moved almost serenely towards orgasm, wrapping his arms tightly around his angel and trying to pull him even closer. Cas growled in pleasure, and finally began to increase the pace, Dean's cock growing pleasurably warm with the friction. 

The orgasm almost caught him unaware, he was so out of it, but it was made more intense by Cas coming barely seconds later. Dean felt himself giddy with all the effort, and the last thing he remembered was Cas wrapping his arms around him and telling him how wonderful it had been for him, too.

+~+~+

Dean slowly came to, and it took him very little time to realize what had happened.

“You feathery bastard!” he muttered affectionately. “Fucking me into a sex coma then cuddling me when I'm not in a position to say no.”

“I rather think you like this position”, Cas retorted, nuzzling the back of Dean's neck and kissing him there. “Your mind says that you enjoy those rare times that you are the little spoon.”

“You read my mind?” Dean said, trying for indignation.

“It was hard not to”, Cas said, and Dean could feel him smiling into his skin. “Though it wasn't the only thing.”

“The only thing what?” Dean asked, confused.

He felt Cas' hand on his dick which, treacherously, gave a immediate twitch.

“The only thing that was hard!” Cas grinned. “You like this, Dean.”

Dean huffed.

“You tell anyone, I'll end you with your own angel sword!”

The pie, still steaming slightly, appeared on the bedside table next to Dean.

“Sure there's nothing I can do to persuade you?” Cas teased.

Dean pouted, but reached for the pie. Or tried to. 

“Cas!” he growled. 

The angel chuckled, but relaxed his embrace on the hunter, releasing his arms. Dean sighed and reached for his pie.

Life was okay, he supposed.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kitchen will never seem quite the same again.

Dean came to slowly, and was immediately hit with a sense of disappointment. There was no naked angel in his bed to cu.... hold him. Not that a manly man needed holding of course; it was just good to conserve body heat. Yeah, that was it.

His conscience muttered something about a river in Egypt, but he ignored it and got up, pulling on a dressing-gown and heading for the kitchen. Neither his brother nor the angel were any good at cooking, and he enjoyed feeding them both, even if Cas didn't need to eat because he was an....

“Oh fuck!”

Cas was stood there in the kitchen, leaning against the side and sipping a cup of coffee. Nothing wrong with that. Indeed, everything right with it – because the angel was wearing his own pair of lacy blue panties that made Dean feel light-headed and hard at one and the same time. 

Cas grinned over his coffee, and Dean was about to grin back when he felt... something. Something right inside him, pressing remorselessly down on his unsuspecting prostate....

Dean came violently.

When his vision returned he found that Cas had got him sat at the kitchen table and, thankfully, had mojo'ed him clean. The angel smiled.

“You said you liked the idea of sudden and unexpected orgasms”, he said conversationally, as if discussing orgasms was perfectly normal for Dean (it was so not). “So this morning we are going to go about our business here in the Bunker, and you will never know when the next one is coming.”

God, that was hot! Dean stared at him in admiration.

+~+~+

The second orgasm came in the shower, and Dean nearly tore down the shower-curtain in surprise.

The third one was when he was cleaning out Baby, fortunately just as he was throwing the rubbish from inside away. And Cas must have been doing something to his insides, because the fourth was just as vigorous and happened only a minute later, Dean exploding right across the garage floor.

The fifth was when Cas appeared behind him in the kitchen and goosed him. Hell, he didn't need his dignity anyway!

The sixth, seventh and eighth all came whilst they were researching together in the library. Each time Cas caught the hunter looking at him, Dean would get the merest flash of blue before he was coming violently and moaning in pleasure. 

By the ninth he was so sore that he was begging for mercy. But Cas promised him pie if he could hold out for one more, so he agreed. 

It was a mistake. The tenth went on for an eternity (Cas told him later it was only five minutes and thirty-four seconds), as he came violently in one of the corridors without any apparent need to stop. It hurt so bad and yet felt so good!

+~+~+

By the evening Dean had recovered enough to be able to actually sit down without wincing (much), and was feeling pleasantly full of a delicious pie that Cas had fetched from his favorite bakery in Texas. 

“I thought that as Sam is not due back until late tomorrow, we might indulge in something else that may be rather noisy”, the angel said with a dangerous glint in his eye.

“Oh yeah?” Dean said. “What did you have in mind?”

“Role-play.”

Well, Dean hadn't been expecting that. 

“As what?” he asked. Cas grinned.

“You quite enjoyed your time as Dean Smith, the high-powered businessman”, he recalled. “How about if Mr. Smith had a willing and eager young secretary called Castiel Novak who was more than willing to fulfill every one of his employer's desires?”

Dean could feel himself getting light-headed.

“Every one?” he said in a high voice.

“Every. Single. One!” Cas growled.

Oh fuck!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Take a letter, Mr. Winchester!

It was gloriously sinful to wake and find himself wrapped in six foot of hunky angel – Cas, Dean had quickly discovered, was a complete octopus in bed as well as a pillow- and sheet-hogger of the highest order – and Dean made the trip to the bathroom feeling mighty perky. Twenty minutes later he had finished and returned to the bedroom.

Or rather tried to. When he came out of the bathroom he found that he had walked into a small office containing a large desk and a computer. Oh, and he was wearing a blouse. And a skirt. 

No, scratch that. He was wearing a handkerchief masquerading as a skirt. Hell, if he bent over then anyone in his line of sight would be able to see....

He felt a familiar touch of lace against his cock. He was wearing panties. The blue ones, by the feel of them. (The rarely used Conscience of Dean Winchester chose this moment to start moralizing about all the times Dean had objectified similarly scantily-clad women in such roles, but he ignored it).

He walked over to the desk and was about to sit down when the phone buzzed. He pressed the button above the flashing light.

“Ah, Mr. Winchester”, came a familiar growl. “I need you to take something down.”

Dean was certainly getting a lot more blushing practice lately. He picked up a handily-positioned notepad and pen, and sauntered through a large wooden door nearby with 'Mr. C. Novak – President' on it.

It was the stereotypical upper management office, even with one of those useless swinging metal ball things on the desk. And there was Cas, sat in a large high-backed chair, smiling broadly.

“I take it you followed my instructions and are wearing the panties”, he smiled.

“Didn't have much choice”, Dean muttered. Cas' smile faded.

“Dear dear, Mr. Winchester”, he sighed. “Your work of late has been rather variable, I must say. I can see that I am going to have to set you a little test.”

Dean's heart started to beat faster.

“What sort of test?” he asked in a manly squeak (shut up, it was!).

“You are aware of the phrase 'the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog'?” Cas asked.

“Uh, no?” Cas sighed.

“What do they teach youngsters these days?” he said. “The phrase contains all the letters of the English alphabet at least once. Here is a card with it written down. I wish you to stand here next to me and transcribe it in your handwriting, then I will see if you are neat enough. If you are not.... there will be Consequences!”

Dean shuddered, and took the card. He placed it on his notepad and went to stand by Cas, and began to write.

He had only reached the 'quick' when he felt it. Cas was somehow running his grace through the panties he was wearing, and the effect was... electrifying. He managed to stumble on to 'fox' before he felt the grace probing at both his entrance and the base of his balls, and he let out a moan.

“Problems, Mr, Winchester?”

“No!” This time it was just a squeak.

Dean concentrated and managed to get to the second 'the' before he saw Cas stick his tongue out slightly. At the same time, he felt something working inside him, pushing round and going straight for...... his prostate!

Dean came more violently than he had ever come in his life before. The writing exercise was a bust as the notepad had been thrown heaven only knew where as he had the orgasm to end all orgasms. Cas must have been controlling him through it somehow, because not only was it impressively long-lasting but he did not, as he almost certainly should have done, burst a blood vessel.

Cas sighed and shook his head disapprovingly.

“I really think that you are not cut out to be a secretary, Mr. Winchester”, he said calmly, while Dean leaned on the desk and tried to remember which was was up. “However, I may have another opening for someone of your... talents.”

Dean shook his head and gathered what was left of his wits.

“What did you have in.... oh fuck!”

Cas had taken advantage of his distraction to whip out his own cock, which was now sporting a very impressive erection. Dean drooled.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for a certain Winchester to start suffering.....

Consciousness was slow to return to Dean Winchester. And as it did, he gradually became aware that things were... well, different.

One, there was pie somewhere nearby. Apple. Bramley, he suspected.

Two, he was not alone in bed. And the man he was with – hell yeah it was most definitely a man! - was holding him in some sort of death-grip. It was.... kinda nice.

(And there went his man-card. Meh.)

Three, he and Cas had just.... oh fuck!

“And I enjoyed every minute of it”, came a familiar rumble from behind him. “Sit up.”

Dean wondered if the blush went all over his body. Since he was now wearing only boxers – when had he put those on? - Cas would definitely know. He pulled himself upright and eyed the dish of pie on the bedside table.

“For you”, Cas said with a smile. “Eat up.”

“Don't you want any?” Dean asked shyly. The angel smiled.

“Pie is not one of my favorite foods”, he said. “Besides, I get far more pleasure out of seeing you happy, and pie makes you happy.”

“Sap!” Dean muttered, though he smiled as he said it.

+~+~+

Dean enjoyed the pie – Cas must have traveled across time to get it, as he knew these apples only grew at certain times of the year – but he was aware that the angel was watching him closely. He finished the pie with a satisfied burp, and blushed.

“Oh I intend to coax many more noises out of that gorgeous body”, Cas grinned. “How are you feeling?”

Dean knew he was thinking about subdrop, though in truth he felt surprisingly good. A bit achy in parts – very in some parts – but overall very happy. And he had had pie.

“I'm good”, he smiled. “I, uh, really enjoyed what we did last night. You know, the, uh, businessman and secretary, uh, thing.”

Dean Winchester, captain of the USS Smootherprize. Not. Cas smiled at him, and Dean edged closer to him. Not a cuddly but a manly embrace, he told himself.

He could see the letter demanding the return of his man-card. Ah well.

+~+~+

If he hadn't have known that emotions were one of the things an angel's grace couldn't control, Dean would have thought that Cas was keeping him on that glorious high all day. Even when Sam came back and was clearly worried as to why his elder brother was in a good mood – usually a sign that he had pulled some devilish prank on his sibling – Dean just sailed on through the day. In fact, the more he thought about it the more ridiculous it seemed to try to keep things from Sammy. So when the moose came back from changing over the washing loads, Dean made sure he was draped around his angel in the kitchen.

“Cas and I are an item now, Sammy”, he grinned.

Sam blushed.

“I know”, he said, staring hard at the floor. “And I'm really happy for both of you. But can you, uh, keep any kinky shit to yourselves.”

“Such as?” Cas asked. Dean just knew he was teasing, but the angel had the perfect poker face. Sammy turned even redder.

“I, uh, found something when I was changing over the washing”, he muttered. “Lacy panties with 'Property of Castiel Winchester' on them. Come on guys. Cas wearing those was an image I did not need!”

Dean exchanged a look with his angel, who quirked an eyebrow in return and then nodded slightly. Oh this was going to be so good!

“What made you think Cas was wearing them?” Dean asked innocently.

It was even better than he had expected, the slow reasoning on Sammy's face as he put two and two together and made.....

They could hear the screaming as he fled down the corridor.


	16. Chapter 16

It was some way through his shower that Dean noticed it. Cas' hand-print was back on his arm.

“I promise not to overuse it”, the angel rumbled, rubbing his still erect cock against Dean's backside. Dean's cock twitched valiantly but he had come once already, and even the great Dean Winchester needed time to recover.

“Like you could!” he snarked back.

There was no warning, but a warm hand suddenly fitted in over the mark on his arm. Dean actually stumbled as every drop of blood in hos body tried to simultaneously reach his lower brain in record time, and by the time his vision had returned Cas was jerking him off. The noises that the mighty hunter was putting out – if Dean had had any brain cells left functioning he would have been mortified. Fortunately he did not.

“Mine!” the angel growled. 

“All yours”, Dean managed weakly, turning round. 

“And I am yours”, Cas said, raising Dean's chin slightly. The hunter stared goofily at him. “Dean?”

“Huh?”

Cas directed Dean's eyes to his own broad shoulders, and Dean shuddered in delight when he saw his own handprint in exactly the same place Cas' was on him.

“Can I?” he asked.

“Definitely.”

Dean slowly reached forward across the still warm spray and place dhis hand almost tentatively on the mark. It fitted perfectly, and three things happened on quick succession. 

First, Cas moaned with the sort of intensity that, impossibly, had Little Dean getting hard a third time.

Second, the angel came with an even louder moan, erupting so hard that his come flew right up between the two men before falling to the floor.

Thirdly and quite distinctly, there was a scream from somewhere in the Bunker, followed by the sound of the front door being slammed.

“Oops!” Cas said, looking totally not sorry.

“Yeah, oops”, Dean agreed, lowering himself to his knees and eying Little Cas with pleasure.

+~+~+

Poor Sam Winchester was not even out of the driveway when he heard the result of his brother's ministrations.


End file.
